


An Orphan, My Savior

by oceanyeon



Category: The Get Down (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, I'm Sorry, mentions of sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 13:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10308995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanyeon/pseuds/oceanyeon
Summary: Zeke bit his lower lip and looked out the window “He's my DJ. This was our dream. He should be here with me and I don't even know where he is right now.”Ra Ra put his hand on Zeke's shoulder. “Dizz sees him sometimes. He's still out there.”“But he's not here.”“I know.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> i hate myself for writing this i don't know why i thot this was okay lmao enjoy also thanks to my best friend for beta reading this even though she's never watched the get down which is a problem on it's own  
> edit// fixed the spacing

 

“Ezekiel has a real future and you can't stand it, can you?!”

Mylene Cruz’s words set off bombs all throughout Shaolin’s body. He stared at her quietly, putting all the pieces back together. The reason why The Get Down was so important. The reason why he felt as if he was in constant competition with this internship. Or why he felt threatened by some church girl turned disco queen.

It was all because of Zeke.

But Mylene took his silence as guilt and tilted her pretty head up in contempt. “That's what I thought. You don't care about Ezekiel. You just want to drag him down with you and your drugs and your murder.” She practically spat out the words like poison.

If Shao had anything to say, he wouldn't have been able to get it out before Mylene turned on her heels and shrugged on her big fur coat. She gave him one last look before leaving the temple. “Why don't you finally do Zeke a favor and stay away from him and his future. Go down as a thug by yourself.”

She slammed the door behind her, letting a quick burst of cold air chill the tears on Shaolin's face.

\--

Shao watches Zeke on the stage one night. To be fair, he watches his wordsmith most nights, and Zeke watches him. Their energy flows through each other. Zeke looks back to send his DJ a message and Shao responds with a flick of the wrist or a flip on the turntables. Shao gives a nod and Zeke spits fire into the crowd and sends them roaring. They've mastered watching each other on the stage and it comes as easy as breathing.

But tonight, in front of maybe hundreds at Les Inferno, Shao watches Zeke from the eyes of someone outside their flow. He watches him with the same eyes he saw Zeke the night they first became brothers. What he sees is probably what everyone in the crowd sees.

Ezekiel is magic. None of his rhymes are anything like the ones they've rehearsed in the temple. Zeke is freestyling lyrics that come solely from the energy of the crowd, yet he says them as if he’s read these rhymes a thousand times.

And Shaolin is in awe. He knew from the beginning that Zeke was a natural at this and somehow, he's only gotten better.

_“Ezekiel has a real future!”_

He truly does.

And Shao is not about to ruin it for him.

\--

“I just think it's time I go at it alone.”

Zeke is staring at Shaolin with hurt, confusion, and sadness.

“But we bonded for life. Me, you, and the crew? We made that promise.”

Shao shook his head. “Nah, Books. You said that. All that was you. Where's Dizzee? And Ra and Boo? The crew is done, it has been for a while now.”

Zeke's eyes are watering now and Shao knows he's hurt him. He almost hates Zeke for being so damn emotional. He loves him for it. But he also knows this is for the best. The best for Zeke and his future.

“So that's it then.” Zeke's voice is cracking. “When you said we could be kings, that was all talk. When you said nobody could fuck with us, it wasn't for real.”

“Look, B, I ain't mean it like that. We always gone be brothers. But if you got this record label looking at you, then they want YOU. And I want you to take it. By yourself.”

“I already told you I'm not doing this by myself,” Zeke said, staring Shaolin dead in the eye. “I'm not doing this alone. I want my DJ, my man, up there with me.”

Shao’s heart twists and burns in his chest. He doesn't want to be without Zeke either. Since they met, he always imagined his future with Zeke at his side. But he also knows that his own future isn't going to be like Zeke's.

From the moment he was born to addicted parents, made to sell drugs, and made to sell his body, Shao knew he was destined to die down here in the Bronx.

Then Zeke came and filled his head with dreams of grandeur. Of becoming kings of their city and leaving the Bronx with each other at their side. Focusing on nothing but the Get Down and their music. Focusing on nothing but the world they had created together.

But that was never meant for Shao.

“Well, I'm telling you that I don't want to do this. And you can't… _force_ me to do this. The record label wants you, not me. I've been by myself before. That's how I work best.”

Zeke stared at him for a minute. Then rubs his beard with his hands. God, when did he get that beard? When did things get so different?

A part of Shao wants to reach out and tell Ezekiel that they're in this together, for life. That he'll follow Zeke on any beat. That they'll go to this record label and work their magic together like they always have. That he loves Zeke more than this music business. He'd give it all up if he could just be with Zeke forever.

But Mylene’s words from years ago echo in his ears and he scolds himself for being selfish again.

“Well,” Zeke sighed. “You still my DJ. Let me know if you change your mind.” He stands up when Shaolin doesn't reply and walks out the door. Out of Shao's life and into his own.

\--

“So, do we have a deal, Ezekiel?”

Ezekiel has sat across many _blanqitos_ in his life. From his time being a teenager in Manhattan, working for these devils was nothing new. He had fought with this CEO for days over this contract. The first copy blatantly fucking him over and each draft getting closer and closer to a compromise.

Ronald sits next to him at the desk. Zeke keeps from calling him “Ra” in front of this strange man who obviously has no respect for these black men making “hip-hop” music. (Where they got the name “hip hop” from, Zeke is unsure. To him it'll always be the Get Down.).

Zeke looks over to his best friend-now-manager and they exchange nods. “I think we got a deal, sir.”

A smile spreads across the white man’s face. Even his grin seems evil. “Wonderful. Absolutely splendid. We can start recording your debut album tomorrow if you'd like?”

Ezekiel rests his chin in his hand. “Yeah, that'll work. What all you need me to bring?”

The man waves his hand in dismissal. “Don't worry about bringing anything but yourself, young man. We provide the studio, the equipment, the mixing and mastering, and the DJ. As is stated in your contract, section 3b.”

Zeke stares at the man blankly and doesn't reply. Just as the silence starts to become uncomfortable, Ra stands up and shakes the man’s hand. “Thank you so much, sir. We’ll both be here tomorrow morning.” He flashes Zeke a look and they head out of the office together.

Once they're in the elevator alone, Ra finally loosens up. His shoulders had been drawn back tight to appear taller for intimidation, though he didn't need to. Ra had kept growing until he was now taller than Ezekiel. Even though he was still fairly skinny, he wasn't a stick like he had been in high school.

Finally dropping his professional, “speaking to the white man” voice, Ra spoke directly to Zeke alone. “Can't believe you used to do that shit every day back when we were kids, man.”

“Why you think I left?” Zeke replied back, laughing slightly.

“Thought it was because you decked the shit out of that white boy and got fired.”

“That too.”

Ra shook his head as they stepped out into the streets of Manhattan to hail a cab. “You don't seem excited about this. Ain't this been your dream since we started the Get Down?”

Zeke sighed and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. This was his dream. He was succeeding by using his talent.

_He showed me my superpower…_

“I'm just a little suspicious that's all. They're giving me a studio, and DJ, and a recording team for free?”

Ra slid into the taxi and waited for Zeke to get in after him before instructing the cab driver to take them to Long Island. “What was that?” Ra asked pointedly.

“That they're giving me a DJ and recording team for free?”

“That's what I thought you said,” Ra replied. He gave Zeke a sad smile. “This about Shao, ain't it?”

Zeke bit his lower lip and looked out the window “He's my DJ. This was _our_ dream. He should be here with me and I don't even know where he is right now.”

Ra Ra put his hand on Zeke's shoulder. “Dizz sees him sometimes. He's still out there.”

“But he's not here.”

“I know.”

They sit the rest of the cab ride in silence, and, as always, Zeke lets his mind drift to Shaolin Fantastic.

\--

“Alright, everybody back up!! One at a time!!”

Fans swarm madly around Zeke, no, Mr. Books. Arms, hands, and paper pads all blur around his vision as he tries to hug and sign autographs for everyone waiting for him after is show in Manhattan. Even through all the chaos, Zeke can't help but smile at his life right now.

This was his first round of touring after his debut album that blew up more than anyone could have really expected. Everyone besides Zeke and Ra, that is.

Through the crowd, Ezekiel catches Ra Ra’s eye and flashes him a huge grin. Ra’s face is buried into a phone and his eyebrows are drawn together as he speaks quickly and angrily into a phone. When their eyes meet, his face contorts into something ugly before turning away to a security guard.

Zeke feels his face drop and signals his bodyguard to turn the rest of the fans away. The crowd lets out cries of indignation as they are pushed from the backstage area and shut behind closed doors.

Just as Zeke heads over to his friend, the phone call is over. Ra buries his face into his hands and rubs his temples. “Why is this happening…,” he mumbles angrily.

“Hey, man,” Zeke grabbed his Ra’s shoulder and tried to look him in the eye. “What's up? Why is what happening?”

Ra Ra straightens out his back and rubs his face, letting in a deep inhale. His cheeks are damp from tears. He exhales before turning to look at Zeke.

“It's Shao.”

\--

Ra had run after Zeke as fast as he could out of the concert stadium. They could hear the crew management shouting after them, but nobody tried to stop them. Everyone was too far in shock to be quick enough.

They burst out the doors, greeted by the blistering cold New York night air and startled fans that had just left the show.

Zeke had almost barreled into a taxi to get him to stop. The driver honked his horn angrily, but let them in anyway.

“Where to?” The driver gruffed.

Neither of them replied. Breathing too heavy and still in shock, they stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. He wasn't pleased.

“Look, you already hit my damn car, the least you could do-”

“Bronx Lebanon. Please,” Ra cut in. “As fast as you can.”

The taxi driver let out a huff and didn't ask any more questions. He turned up the radio, set on a news station, and started back driving.

Zeke's legs couldn't stop shaking, Ra could feel the vibrations through the seat. To distract himself, he counted the number of street lights. Eventually, the constant string of red lights only made him more frustrated, so he focused on the radio instead.

“-popular rapper, Ezekiel Figuero,” the female newscaster's voice spoke, “also known as ‘Mr. Books’ was seen running from his own concert tonight by fans. Sources say-”

_No._

“-longtime friend, DJ Shaolin Fantastic-”

_N o._

“-recently hospitalized-”

_NO NO NO._

“-diagnosed with the mysterious virus-”

“YO, CUT THAT SHIT OFF,” Zeke screamed at the driver. His hands reached to the front of the cab, flinging wildly.

The driver shouted and swerved to avoid Zeke's hands. The car abruptly stopped. “OUT OF MY CAB YOU DAMN THUGS!! Walk the rest of the fucking way!!!”

Zeke flew open the door cursing and yelling before Ra could get a word out. He bolted after his friend who was already running the rest of the way to the hospital. Luckily, the hospital wasn't too far from where they had gotten kicked out.

They burst through the hospital doors together.

\--

“We aren't certain he'll make it through the night. I'm sorry.”

Zeke can feel his blood pumping through his head. His eyes are on the doctor, but he can't seem to focus. He hears Boo and Ra consoling each other and can feel their hands on his back.

He should’ve stayed with Shao.

He should've said fuck that bullshit about being alone.

He should've stayed with his man.

“Can I go see him?” Zeke asked though he couldn't fully tell that the words were his.

“Of course,” the doctor replied. “We couldn't find any family on record. Do you know if-”

“This is his family,” Boo interrupted. “We're his brothers.”

The doctor stared at them for a moment, then nodded. “Sorry. I'll leave you to say your goodbyes then.”

Boo nodded and looked at Zeke and Ra. “We were coming to see y'all after your show. Then he just…” His voice trailed off before the tears started to come. “He said he wasn't feeling straight but I didn't know…”

Zeke shook his head, “This ain't your fault Boo.” It's mine… “I'm gonna go see him.”

Ra stayed silently staring at the floor. “I can't see him like this,” he whispered. “Not after Di-” his voice choked and the tears spilled faster down his face. Boo pulled in his brother for a hug but couldn't keep from crying too.

Zeke went in the room alone.

The only sound was the whir of air conditioning and the steady beeping of a heart monitor. Shao was laying in the bed facing away from Zeke out of a window. Zeke had no idea if he was conscious or if he could hear. But when Zeke began to walk closer, Shao slowly turned his head.

It took everything within Zeke not to cry.

“Look at you,” Shao said, voice barely above a whisper. “The nurse told me you canceled your tour. I ain't really believe her.”

“I'd have canceled a thousand tours to come see my DJ,” Zeke replied, pulling up a chair next to the bed.

Shao cringed and his eyes began to well up. “I know you would.”

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Even after all of these years, the energy flow between them came easy, as if it never left. Zeke felt like he had nothing and everything to say. To say that he's sorry. That he should've been there. And how stupid he was for just leaving.

But Shaolin spoke first. “I'm sorry.”

Zeke almost shouted. “You got nothing to be sorry for! This is my fault, I shouldn't have left-”

“No,” Shao let out a lung shattering series of coughs. “You leaving was best for both of us. I'm sorry that I ever dragged you down. That I ever got you tied up with…” he gestured to his body, plugged up with IVs, “all of this.”

Zeke felt his face drop. “Is that what you think? Shao, I ain't shit without you. You showed me what I was capable of. You _saved_ me…” His eyes welled up with tears as Shao stared back blankly. His sick eyes kept coming in and out of focus, so Zeke made sure Shao was all there before he took his DJs face into his hands. “Shao, I love you.”

His palms became damp with Shaolin's tears. “I love you too, Books.” His breathing grew more and more staggered, so they didn't say anything else. Just stared at each other quietly and let the night slip by.

  
They fell asleep eventually. Hand in hand until the energy stopped flowing for the last time.

**Author's Note:**

> you can send your hate mail to my tumblr @ shaosfantastic


End file.
